


Like Old Woolen Blankets

by themadlurker



Series: camelot_fleet commentfics [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Episode: s01e12 To Kill the King, F/F, Ficlet, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-06
Updated: 2009-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28127631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themadlurker/pseuds/themadlurker
Summary: Gwen wants things to be normal again, or at least toactas if they were, even if they never can be.
Relationships: Gwen/Morgana (Merlin)
Series: camelot_fleet commentfics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2060613
Kudos: 1





	Like Old Woolen Blankets

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from briar_pipe: "what if Morgana offered to stay with Gwen in her house for a night because it felt so empty, because Gwen spent so many nights at the castle for Morgana's sake. Them sharing a small bed with old blankets that smell like Gwen and a fire popping cheerfully in the fireplace, that sort of thing."

Gwen can't stand the way Morgana keeps looking at her, tense and guilty ever since she returned with Uther (alive). Gwen wants to shake her, wants to ask why it's Gwen's responsibility to reassure her that she did the right thing (because of course she did and she wants Morgana to be proud of her bravery, not apologetic). Mostly, though, Gwen wants things to be normal again, or at least to _act_ as if they were, even if they never can be. So, when Morgana asks for the twentieth time if there's anything she can do, Gwen tells her that she's afraid of being alone in her father's house and what she really wants (though really, what she wants is to wake up and find that all of this has been a terrible dream — her father, sorcery!) is to spend a night the way they did when they were younger and Morgana used to slip away from her minders, into the town, to the blacksmith's house.

They spread blankets over the thin pallet on the floor, and Morgana settles herself between Gwen and the empty bed in the corner. Gwen lies absolutely still, staring at the wall, but Morgana can't seem to stop fidgeting. Gwen knows it isn't the itchiness of the straw or the wool blanket, because she's seen Morgana lie down in worse places without fuss — on the stone floor of a cottage in Ealdor, on the forest floor along the way, on this floor without a pallet when she crept in one night, unexpected — so she half-turns, tugs Morgana's arm around her waist and traps it there. It's not quite comfortable for either one, but it's solid and it's close. Morgana tightens her arm around Gwen and then finally falls still. After a moment, Gwen realizes Morgana's lips are moving, from the way they stir in her hair and brush against her neck, unspoken words ghosting across Gwen's ear.

In the darkness, Gwen can almost imagine there's a third presence with them in the house.


End file.
